The CP Shuffle
by mudget
Summary: Ten Wheeler & Linka and Wheeler/Linka drabbles inspired by ten random songs  on my iTunes. Taken from a challenge on livejournal. Rated for a couple of swearwords thrown into the mix ;


**A/N** - Yes I am still alive! I've been madly working on several fics, but I took some time out to complete this challenge.

So this was completed for a challenge over on livejournal. Challenge: Choose a fandom, character or pairing. Put your music player on shuffle and write 10 drabbles/ficlets for 10 songs. You can only write each drabble for the duration of each song. You are allowed you to go back and correct spelling and grammar, but nothing more!

I was a little apprehensive about it at first, because I am exactly the type of person that this challenge is targeted for. I'm finicky and pedantic and I agonise for hours over minor and minute details. But this was _so_ much fun! I got a nice spread of songs, with play time ranging from anywhere between 2 minutes (D:) to 14 minutes (:D). And I have to say, I didn't do half bad considering I wrote half of these on less than two hours sleep ;) And can I just say, I laughed out loud when I saw the last song XD

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><p>(<strong>Fall At Your Feet<strong> – Boy and Bear [cover])

Lying in the dark, Wheeler could feel Linka sleeping beside him. Her back was to him and the night hadn't gone exactly as planned.

He'd tried to talk to her, she'd blown up at him. He offered her help and she'd thrown it back at him. And now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, forced into each others' company until the rest of the team came to get them. And all he'd tried to do was help.

(Feeling Good – Michael Bublé)

He swaggered out of his hut with a stupid grin spread over his face.

He breathed in the fresh, salty morning air and stretched as the sun hit his face.

Oh yeah, today was gonna be a good day. He grinned, a twinkle in his eye, as he caught sight of Linka making her way, hurriedly, to the bathroom, the majority of her clothes clutched to her chest.

(**The Suburbs** – Arcade Fire)

"What do you think you would be doing now, if Gaia had not called you here?" Linka had asked him one evening, as the two of them sat quietly in the common room.

Wheeler had shrugged and leaned back in the couch, clasping his hands behind his head. Linka waited for him to answer as he mulled the question over.

"I try not to think about that too much, babe," he had said, staring down at his feet. Linka had peered up at him at that, studying his face silently.

He had flicked his eyes to her and given her a small smile, though his eyes had failed to hide the memories and the thoughts that had flitted across his mind.

(**The Outsider** – Marina and the Diamonds)

"So what, because I'm not clever and smart like you and Gi I don't deserve to be a Planeteer?" Wheeler spat back angrily.

"That is not what I said, Wheeler! You are turning my words around!" Linka had yelled back, exasperated.

"No, you always remind me how fucking stupid I am. You think I don't notice the eye-rolling or the snickering? Sometimes you guys make me feel like I don't belong here and it really pisses me off. But, I'm a nice guy so I make a joke and let it go. 'Good ol' Wheeler, he's just the comic relief.' But I have so had enough, Linka!"

Linka couldn't believe what she was hearing and instead of yelling the usual retort she just stared, open mouthed at the Fire Planeteer. This was the first she had heard Wheeler make mention that he felt like an outsider.

(**Mr Brightside** – The Killers)

Wheeler gritted his teeth and scowled at the taller man leaning against the bar all charismatic and suave. The girls were fawning all over the guy and quite frankly it was embarrassing.

Linka glanced towards him, flashing him a smile. He, of course, offered her a smile and a nod in return and then 'Mr Wonderful' said something _enormously_ funny that drew her attention back. The sound of her laughter pelted him and the forced smile was chased away by a deepening scowl.

Even Gi was completely smitten by this guy. He rolled his eyes as she touched a hand to the guy's arm, looking up at him all doe-eyed. So what if the guy was some Head of Research. And drove around in some fancy hybrid luxury car. And happened to be witty and ok-looking in that ruggedly attractive way, with hair that sat in stylish effortlessness (as Wheeler self-consciously tried, for the fifth time, to unsuccessfully smooth down his own uncooperative hair). And had that accent that seemed to woo the girls just by the utterance of a syllable, all the while highlighting his own rather unsophisticated roots.

It's not like Wheeler was jealous of the guy. _Nope, definitely not jealous_, he thought, clenching his jaw and glaring as the guy casually draped an arm over each of the girls.

(**Help I'm Alive** – Metric)

She looked up into his face, dazed and a bit confused, as it hovered bare inches above hers.

He stared back down at her, his hands still planted against her shoulders. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest and it was little wonder she couldn't feel it.

She gave a small cough and shifter under his weight. It broke the spell and he blinked.

"Oh. Uh sorry," he muttered, rolling off from on top of her. "Are you ok?"

She nodded as she sat up slowly, still confused.

"Geez, babe, that was close. Didn't you see the bulldozer?"

She could only shake her head in reply. Wheeler held out his hand to help her up and she stared at it a moment before grasping it and standing.

"You'll have to thank me later. I'm pretty sure I just saved your life," he said with a grin and a wink. Though in truth his heart was still beating like a hammer; for a brief, panicked moment he didn't think he would get to Linka in time.

(**O.N.E. – Yeasayer**)

She was pissed with him. _Again_.

"Seriously, Linka? We're doing this again are we?" he sighed. She remained silent and glared dangerously at him. The other Planeteers had quickly made themselves scarce as soon as they had landed back on Hope Island. The flight home had been awkward and uncomfortable, despite Gi's efforts to break the tension with casual conversation.

He ran a hand through his hair. His latest flirting had been directed at a leggy brunette who didn't seem to mind the attention. It was harmless and she was cute. He should have known he'd receive a tirade of lectures and venomous insults, but he couldn't help himself. And he didn't understand why he should stop.

He sighed and sat heavily on the couch. "Linka, I can't take this anymore. You're beautiful and hot, and smart, but you seriously wear me down. I can't do this..."he waved his hand, gesturing to the both of them."...Whatever the fuck 'this' is," he muttered.

(**Pushit (live)** - Tool)

"Mind if I join you?"

"Oh hey, Kwame. Sure," Wheeler said, looking up at the approach of the tall African and shifting over to make room on the end of the pier.

They sat in companionable silence, Kwame looking out at the undulating waves and Wheeler absently stringing apart long pieces of grass and dropping them into the lapping water below his dangling feet.

Kwame glanced to his companion. "Is everything ok, Wheeler?" He knew something was bothering his friend; his sullen mood, snappy behaviour and his hunched posture were clear signs.

Wheeler didn't respond right away. He lifted his head to squint out into the horizon and Kwame waited patiently.

"It's just... I mean..." He sighed as he tried to work out how to explain himself, looking back down to the strands of grass drifting in the water. "There's just no winning with her!" he said finally, dumping the remainder of the grass in the water. "I hate that she makes me feel like this. I hate that she has this control over me. It's like we're just constantly playing this game of push and shove, you know? And damn can she be a cold bitch." He gave a wry chuckle and shook his head. A small knowing smile passed across Kwame's lips.

Wheeler rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm. "I don't know. It's just that sometimes I think there's something there, between us. You know, she's different when you guys aren't around," he said, glancing to Kwame. "Yeah, like she's actually nice to me," he snorted. He clasped his hands together across his lap, his thumbs flicking against one another. "But other times I feel like I just want to bang my head against a wall. I'm just so fucking tired of all the pushing and I'm so tired of feeling like I'm losing myself because of her. She gives me these moments, these _great_ little moments and she's got me hooked. She's so infuriating and intoxicating..."

"Fire requires the air to burn, but too much and it can become a blazing inferno, or it can put it out altogether. You are both like the powers you control, my friend. It is just a matter of finding the right balance." Kwame gave him a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder before standing.

"Hey Kwame. You won't say anything, right? I've got an image to maintain you know."

The African gave him a grin, then turned and headed back towards the huts, leaving the American alone with his thoughts.

(Just a Song About Ping Pong – Operator Please)

"Whatya mean? This is a _great_ song!" Wheeler stated.

Linka scoffed. "It does not even make sense! And quite obviously the song is not just about ping pong."

Wheeler rolled his eyes. "I think you might be reading too much into it, babe. Come on, get up and dance! I know Gi will," he said, flashing a grin at the Asian.

(**Yard of Blonde Girls** – Jeff Buckley)

Linka rolled her eyes and made a guttural noise in the back of her throat. "Boys..." she muttered to herself.

Wheeler was quite possibly in heaven. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wipe the stupid, goofy grin from his face. They were surrounded by blonde girls. Everywhere he looked, a blonde filled his vision.

He looked over to the Russian blonde, who glared angrily at him and shoved him forward to follow the rest of the team as they made their way through the crowd.

"Don't worry, babe," he whispered to her. "You'll always be first pick of the bunch," he said, waggling his eyebrows and narrowly dodging her well-aimed slap to the head.


End file.
